


v. intruder

by icymapletree



Series: febuwhump/febufluff 2020 [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:34:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22574080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icymapletree/pseuds/icymapletree
Summary: “Peter?”He hums at the call of his name, his eyes darting up to meet Tony’s.“Are you okay?”He nods, even though that’s far from the truth.orPeter struggles to adapt to a post-Endgame relationship with Tony.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: febuwhump/febufluff 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618837
Comments: 24
Kudos: 283





	v. intruder

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently in bed with the flu, but I won't be taken down that easily! please enjoy my probably incoherent rambling - nyquil was coursing through my veins as I wrote this.
> 
> enjoy!

The word _homeless_ rings through Peter’s head and sits like a rock in his stomach.

He sees homeless people all the time-- on the streets of every borough in New York, carrying backpacks, and looking like they need a hug and a warm meal.

It’s been two weeks since the battle at the compound, and an early census revealed that nearly everyone who was blipped back has been displaced out of their homes.

Peter and May are some of the lucky ones-- they have family that wasn’t blipped and they are willing and able to take them in. It also helps that said family happens to contain the richest man in the nation. 

He should feel thankful, and he truly does. But the overwhelming feeling in his gut is jealousy-- it’s thick and muddy like a swamp. He wants to get rid of it, it makes him feel gross and ungrateful - but he doesn’t know how.

It rises in his throat during moments like these, when Peter’s alone in the floral printed plush chair and Tony is on the couch with Morgan carefully curled into his side. They’re watching Frozen 2, which came out in the years that Peter was gone. He didn’t even know they were planning a sequel.

He must be too old to rely on physical comfort-- even though the battle rages on in his head. If he sits still for too long, or it gets too quiet, he can hear Thanos’ yells to fire and the resulting explosions. 

Tony looks different, and it’s not just the way that his face is lit by the TV screen. He has gray hair, and his beard is peppered. The most notable differences are the arm missing from his right side-- and the little girl leaning into his left.

“Peter?”

He hums at the call of his name, his eyes darting up to meet Tony’s.

“Are you okay?”

He nods, even though that’s far from the truth.

**x**

The next day, he gets his first text from Ned. 

_Dude, are you okay? They’re showing the ruins of the Avengers compound on the news. Were you blipped too?_

Peter frowns and jumps down from the ceiling of the guest room. _I’m fine. I was blipped._

_Were you in space? What was it like?_

_I died in space, Ned. I don’t want to talk about it._

The typing bubble pops up, then goes away. The message that comes through is _Okay._

He feels terrible, but he just shuts off his phone and sets it on the nightstand, leaping back up to the ceiling. It’s popcorn textured, and Peter regretfully remembers that Mr. Stark said he would _never_ install such ceilings after Peter complained about the way the texturing sticks to his clothes and leaves a floury texture on his hands.

He has an urge to check and make sure Ned is okay, but he doesn’t have much time to ponder it before there’s a knock on his door. The heartbeat is different than those he is used to, not Tony’s stuttering rhythm, or May and Pepper’s steady _thump-thump._ This one is faster and quieter. Yet, there is no twinge of his spider sense. 

“Come in.”

Despite the differing heartbeat, he expects it to be May, or maybe Tony or Pepper - but he’s greeted by a small dark haired girl whose eyes dart around the room before they wander up to the ceiling. When her gaze finds him, she shrieks and slams the door.

“Great,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t make a move to get up.

When he hears cries coming from downstairs, though, that’s when he gets up. Peter stops at the top of the stairs and it’s quite a sight, Tony displaying a type of easy affection that he had difficulty with when it came to Peter. He really is a new man, Peter realizes, even minus the sacrifice.

“You scared her,” Tony says.

“I didn’t mean too, Mr. Stark.” He wipes at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Morgan,” he says, even though he doesn’t feel that way. His stickiness is part of who he is, as silly as it sounds - but he’s trying so hard to be a good guest, to drown out the anxiety in his gut. 

But Morgan doesn’t say anything back, just cries harder as Peter scampers up the stairs and back to the guest room. 

**x**

The next knock on the door is May - he can tell by the pattern of her knuckles on the door. 

“Come in,” he says, this time with more conviction. He sits up and crosses his arms, trying to make it look like he was doing something other than just sitting and staring. 

The door creaks as she opens it, and it’s strange, the way that something in Tony Stark’s house isn’t perfect. She stands there, and when she catches sight of her nephew, her posture relaxes. 

She sits beside him on the bed, and brushes his hair away from his forehead.

“Are you okay, baby?”

Peter’s really tired of that question. Just because he heals faster than everyone else, and his concussion is gone, doesn’t mean that he’s okay. But the way May’s asking is different than the way that everyone else is asking. 

“I… I don’t think so, May.”

She looks out the window. “Tony’s sorry. He didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I know… I just feel like he’s so different now, is all.”

“I thought you might say that.” She wraps an arm around him. “He is different, Peter. It’s not a bad different just…”

“New.”

“Yeah, honey… I think it’ll all be okay.”

Peter’s eyes start to water. “I just feel like I don’t know him anymore. I didn’t really before, but there was something there, then. I’m different too, May-- I hate to say it, but seeing that much death… and _dying_... it gives a different perspective. I punched the most powerful being in the universe in the face.” He laughs, but it’s a wet chuckle with no humor. 

“My father used to say that... he used to say that since he got back from Vietnam that everything now had a sepia filter over it. It dulled your world, Peter, I know that. And I wished that it hadn’t happened when you still have so many years left to live. Go talk to Tony, Peter. You need him more than you think.”

He looks at her, pleading with his eyes. “I don’t… I can’t… he’s not the same person that took me to see Hamilton for my sixteenth birthday… or the one who worked with me on my suits--”

“That’s where you’re wrong. He is, you’ve just gotta show him that you want to be with him. You want him to hug you.”

“He hugs Morgan all the time, though.”

“Morgan doesn’t know any different - this is all she’s ever known. She’s a sweet girl, you know, once you get to know her.”

“I _know_.”

“Do you?” She brushes her own hair back with her fingers. “You seem to leave every time she walks into a room.”

“...I feel like an intruder whenever she’s there.”

“I know you do, honey. But you’re no intruder. Tony _loves_ you. Probably just as much as he loves Morgan. You gotta remember that you were gone for five years, Peter. He probably doesn’t know how to approach you. ”

“But for me it’s only been two weeks.”

“I know. And he knows. That’s part of the problem, sweetie.”

They stay like that for a long few moments, just Peter and May, the way it was after Ben died but before Tony blasted into their. 

“You’ve gotta go talk to him.”

**x**

Peter stays holed up in his room until early the next morning. It was a sleepless night, and the sun is just peeking over the lake. No lights are on in the house, spare a few warm-glowing lamps.

Tony is bent over the kitchen counter, struggling to crack an egg into the mixing bowl.

“Can I help, Mr. Stark?”

A little surprised to see him, Tony stiffens then turns around. “Of course, kid.”

Tony was having a little bit of trouble, making pancakes one-handed. They work together to make the recipe, but they don’t work together like they used to in the lab. They aid each other rather than going around each other. 

Peter unscrews the cap of the oil and holds the measuring cup, Tony pours it. 

As Peter steadies the bowl and Tony he takes a spatula to the side of it, Tony turns his head to look at Peter. “Why do you still call me Mr. Stark? You called me Tony on the battlefield.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark.”

“I think you do.” Tony clicks his tongue. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I just thought you had better things to do, is all.”

“I never have better things to do than hang out with my kid.”

The word ‘my’ echoes through his head. “I understand,” he nods, swallowing back hurt.

Tony drops the spatula, his brows bouncing together. His words are gentle. “What do you mean, you understand?”

“That you’ll, that you’ll want to spend more time Morgan.”

“What?”

“You said that you’d, that you don’t have anything better to do than hang out with your kid.”

“Peter, _you’re_ my kid.”

“What?”

For a second, time seems to stop. It’s just Tony, looking at him like he’d hung the stars. The pancake batter is forgotten in favor of a one-armed hug. 

The sun has risen now, and the mood in the Stark cabin feels lighter.

**x**

When Morgan comes bounding down the stairs, Peter doesn’t feel the usual resentment as he sets a plate out in front of her. 

“Thank you,” she says quietly. Peter sits down next to her, digging into his own pancakes.

“How are you?”

She pauses before whispering to him, peering at him through a curtain of hair. “Good.”

“I’m glad… I’m Peter. I guess I never told you that, huh?”

“I know that you’re Peter. My daddy used to tell me all about you.”

“Used to?”

“Well, you’re here now, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> i promise the fluff is COMING
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/icymapletree)!


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